TO MUM, 49 YEARS LATER

We look back at their younger days, their bright smiles, bright lipsticks, starched saris, powerful, strident steps, the one hand wallop, the reprimand, the scathing look, the cake maker, the tailor, the gardener, the lyricist, the professor, the school ma'am ways, the perfect hostess; educated and erudite, girl and woman, housewife and employee, skilled and accomplished, they are our mothers.
Old and frail, the smile wan, the skin sallow, the hairline receding, the crisp nightie, the loose dentures, the mellow appetite, the bottles of medicines, the days in bed, they are still our mothers.
Educated or not, accomplished or not, high born or not, none takes her place.

When we look back in time we see the change in society; as young children and teenagers, we did not celebrate remembrance days in this part of the world, except our birthdays, perhaps because they were not Indian observances, and our portals had not opened to foreign economy, Archie's cards had not found their place on store shelves. We celebrated our mothers everyday.
As we turned global, our children worked themselves into a frazzle to make the second Sunday of May special for us, and we rose to the occasion. We still celebrate our mothers, and motherhood, everyday.

Chocolates will be consumed and flowers will whither, the biggest gift that we can give our mothers is to be the sons and daughters that they wanted us to be.

While we raise a toast to our mothers, we take a sip from the same goblet, we are what they wanted us to be, we didn't let them down.

Happy Mother's Day; we celebrate everyday.